In a coocoon of cotton and polyester
If someone was going to care I'd tell them not to.
And to despair is to be dead inside.
A burst or forgotten condom, that's what I come down to.
And still, I'm useless.
Death could not undo what I have done.
My punishment is to live with the knowledge of my gross incompetence in all facets of the experience of life.
My punishment is for my guts to twist and turn to no end and for relief to be a thing of outrageous fantasy and fiction.
I pollute everything. I tear down and destroy and I ruin and never even see it happening as I proceed forth.
Yet to be locked p all alone where I could pollute no one and nothing else... that would bring selfless madness, and I am obviously too selfish to ever contemplate any form of selflessness.
Useless and beyond. Things as mere as words could never hope to contain it.
It's all just ideas. Just intangible thoughts we all share and no one can actually lay their hands on to cuddle them close or to break them over a knee.
Like uselessness like mine... 'sorry' can never be enough.
Back.
I have to take my leave of abscence from a world who didn't want me around in the first place.
A worthless blotch of pain.
A clumsy smear of ink.
A mistake, and nothing more.
If I could harness all the sick goings-on inside me
maybe then I'd be worth something and maybe then I could do something right for once in my miserable lie of a cowards life.
The beam in my eye is paramount and connot be removed without taking my very life with it.
Caring brings pain... and being immersed in enough pain...
in years of pain...
in a bubbling vat of pain...
it brings on despair.
To be dead is to be forgotten.
And to be forgotten is in liking to have never existed in the first place.
Unplanned and thrust into random idiocy and pain.
My screams as a burnt out caring person tear at the places inside me where vital stuff has come and gone, and gone again.
Simple things escape me and I overcomplicate everything to support resounding evil.
I have made my messy mark and brought frustration and evil and worse to this place.
Hooray for the headfuck, painful and all-encompassing until you think the moon is the sun and the sun is purple.
Untouchable but rock solid, things of forever.
Pollution and suffering and a death that comes both too early and too late.